Saturday, December 28, 2013

I am in the process of writing my new book..."House A'Burnin'". It is a supernaturanl/horror book. I will now post the prologue to the book:
INFERNO! The old Simmons house was burning out of control and no one dared stop it! Every community has its share of fires. Nothing is unusual about house fires, tonight being the exception! This phenomenon was extraordinary because the town prepared and planned this incineration for weeks and all knew the day and time it would burn.
No firefighters attempted to quench the flames, only spraying the surrounding greenery to ensure the fire didn’t spread. The earth surrounding this house was devoid of greenery, not because the fire scalded the ground, it just didn’t grow here.
The firefighters displayed an attitude of indifference towards the house. The crowds watching the house burn did so with blatant attitudes of relief. No one shed tears about the loss of property or the flames devouring their life’s memories.
Cold-bloodedness reigned as the house’s frame crashed down, no longer able to stand due to the fire’s intensity destroying the structure’s integrity with people either cheering or screaming with fear. Folks seemed mesmerized by the event! The population of the town turned out to watch as the house slowly disappeared in the cleansing fire.
A Priest, Father Archer, stepped forward to face the crowd, and held his hands up to quiet them. Imperturbability embraced the crowd in anticipation of what Father Archer had to say. Everyone was expecting reassurances that the evil suffocated in the fire.
Father Archer began to speak when unearthly screams shook the night, emanating from inside the house’s structure! It was impossible that a person could still be alive inside the bright yellow and red inferno!
Father Archer attempted to calm everyone, but fear had parents scooping up small children and running for their lives! Terrified children cried as their parents screamed! The horrific sound didn’t come from anything human!
A cleansing fire was the only option the town felt would deliver them from the evil plagued house that haunted this ground for as long as anyone could remember. No burial grounds or cemeteries fouled the property.
At one time, the ground-must have favored life. A twisted, knotted tree interrupted the view of the land. No buds, flowers, or leaves adorned this tree in the spring or summer. Whatever evil resided here drew the life out of everything. Who or what was there to blame? There were no witches to hang or burn, shaman to kill or covens to destroy. Nothing physical haunted and terrified these people. Pure, unadulterated evil gripped, and permeated this house and ground.
Some people, ignorant of the house’s history, would attempt to explore the house and property. Those ignorant souls experienced death, insanity, committed murders or suicides, and physical disappearances. Teams entered the house during daylight hours, to tear down walls and floors, while others dug up the basement floor to disinter any bodies found, the bodies of those who disappeared. Those who disappeared were forevermore gone.
People looked for any explanation of the events associated with the house, with men running out frightened, some later committing suicide, unable to cope with what they saw and experienced or unable to describe what they confronted.
The most notable Mediums of the day attempted séances to contact whatever the evil that permeated not only the lumber, but also the air and the ground. Some actually died with others having to drag the Mediums body from the house.
Father Archer was the only remaining representative of the town still watching the fire. The firefighters left their La France Pumper where it sat, to burn if needed, while they ran with the rest of the citizens!
Father Archer walked as close as he could to the remains of the burning house. He clasped his hands together, looked towards the heavens, and said, “Holy Father, let this be the end of this evil as we cast it back to Hell from where it came!”
Father Archer threw Holy Water onto the fire. A loud groan emanated from inside the fire and embers as a figure approached. The figure appeared made of the fire and brimstone of hell, the same substances that Father Archer hammered home in his Sunday sermons.
It looked at Father Archer, sighing and moaning as if in pain, but not. Its eyes were yellowish, glowing, and boring a hole through the priest. The figure tilted its head as if attempting to understand what was standing in front of it. It finally spoke in a voice that hissed and moaned each word, “Who are you that you stand while others run? Do you do not fear us? None has dared to confront us, yet you stay. What is it you wish of us?”
“What is your name, creature of hell? Tell me, I command you in the name of God!” Father Archer commanded.
“Ah, you wish to know our name? We have gone by many names since the birth of man. What name would you prefer?” The creature said mocking the priest.
“I am disinclined to play your game! I face you in the name of God and command you, in His name, return to hell from whence you came! I command you now!” cried Father Archer with the authority he felt he had.
“Ah, you are a Holy Man?” The creature moaned. “You believe your faith and teaching allows you powers over us? For centuries, others as you have made the bold statements that they ‘command’ us, but yet we still exist!”
At this point, the figure appeared to breathe in, his laugh curdling the blood in the veins of all who may have heard. It then moaned out the words, “We offer you a chance to run. Now would be that time.”
“I stand before you without fear for I have God on my side! Again, I command you in His name, back to hell!” Father Archer yelled again, gaining more confidence as he stood toe to toe with the creature.
“You are brave, but a fool!” The figure opened its arms as it approached closer to Father Archer and said, “I see no god here to command us. Your words hold no power over us and are empty! You believe in a power you cannot to wield! We are beyond your authority! Your god leaves you here to face us!”
The creature was now so close to Father Archer that he could smell the stench of decomposition and could make out its countenance. Though he concluded what he now dealt with, he couldn’t fathom that such a thing actually existed! The creature spoke again and said, “We have offered you the chance to run, but you have chosen to stay. You now have a choice to join us and live eternally or die!
His confidence and faith shaken, Father Archer yelled, “I will die and abide with my God for eternity before becoming the evil that you are!”
The figure then stretched out his arms, embracing Father Archer! The last scream heard that night was human as Father Archer began writhing in agony as his blood quickly drained and his body appeared mummified! The creature turned and dragged Father Archer into the inferno where they both disappeared into the flames.
The townsfolk never sent a search party for the Father. They knew his body was gone forever!
Since 1890, the area that surrounds the property remains fenced with signs stating the area is dangerous and all trespassers would face arrest and prosecution. Over the years, collectors had offered large sums to purchase the antique La France Pumper that was on the fenced in property. Fear of awakening the evil, the town turned down all offers.
Through the years, the story of the house and property remained alive, and those that remembered and believed ensured the fence and signs always remained.
As years passed and the story lost its believability for most, some high school kids cut the fence and dared each other to sneak in at night. When the police arrived, alerted by the kids too terrified to take the dare, some of their friends were forever gone. Of those found, some committed suicide, some became so loathsome and evil that no one dared be near them, while others lived out their lives as patients of insane asylums, drooling and mumbling unintelligibly of things no could name or screaming until their voices gave out.
Over the years, the believers installed new and stronger fencing to keep anyone from entering. The believers knew the land was biding its time, waiting on its next victims, and nothing on earth could prevent it

Thursday, December 19, 2013

As I write this entry, a horror story is forming in my mind and I have written and re-written the prologue until it was perfect in building fear. Look for it in 2014! That is, unless the horror gets me first! :)

Thursday, December 12, 2013

I came up with the character, Solomon Stryker, because I feel this world needs a new superhero to look to. Today's superhero has new enemies to deal with. It is no longer the black and white good and bad scenario that Superman, Batman and our past heroes dealt with. Today, we live in a world where terrorism is an everyday event and fear in all corners of the world. Solomon Stryker is the man to stand and face them without having qualms of upsetting anyone else or the ideas. He doesn't care if bleeding hearts say he is harsh or wrong, he only knows that terrorism must be eliminated at all costs and will not stop at leveling towns or countries to drive home his point.
I see him as someone who could exist. He is the man to bring America back to the most feared nation in the world. Looking at how he would handle a real relationship is why I see his relationship as in constant turmoil with Candace because he wants what she offers him, love. But he is also a man who is fragile when it comes to a relationship, because it means giving up some of his control and allow another to guide him. It creates what he sees as a vulnerability in his life, yet one he is trying hard to accept.
What Candace has yet to see is the extreme dark side of this man. She does not know to what lengths he will go to maintain a control over the world of the terrorist world as well as shaping the world to what he sees it should be to be fair to all. We know in book one, he had the thought cross his mind as to what he would have to do to Candace should she turn against him after he revealed C.A.I.N. to her. The question is, will Stryker be willing to sacrifice Candace's life to bring his child up to fill in his footsteps. Even I don't know, because Solomon hasn't let me in on his future plans yet. He and C.A.I.N. are up to something, and C.A.I.N. may have his agenda. I will let you know next year when Solomon and Candace sit down and tell me what's up! Tune back in for updates!

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

During Christmas, a lot of time we struggle to buy the right gifts, especially for children. Being 57 years old, I didn't always have a television in my home, for one reason or another. In this day, if a child doesn't have the latest game system, or games, clothes, tennis shoes, and newest electronic device, it seems we are somehow letting them down.
My best Christmas gifts were always books. My best friends were Tom Sawyer and Huck, The Time Machine, Tunnel Through Time, Doc Savage, The Hardy Boys, Treasure Island and the titles go on and on! Books open a mind to new adventures that not only allow an imaginations explode and dreams to expand, but open the vocabulary to new words and interactions.
Whether it is my books or other's books, give someone the greatest gift this Christmas season by taking a game controller out of their hands, make them take a few hours away from texting, Twittering and other things, and place a book in their hands. For some, it may not take, but there are others who will suddenly find themselves lost on a island, walking the Mississippi, lost in a cave with a girl named Becky Thacher, finding themselves lost in time and solving a mystery with a with the Hardy Brothers.
I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and hope that you sit down with your children, not just read them The Night Before Christmas, but read them The Christmas Story and give them a firm foundation to grow up with and an understanding of why we have Chistmas and who was born over 2000 years ago to give us all hope. Merry Christmas to all! Terry Manning

To help my readers who may not be able to afford $4.99 for Fallon's Land but are stating their interest in its purchase, I have set a new pricing for $2.99 and $0.99 for libraries. Remember, Fallon's land can be enjoyed by all age groups as there is not hint of, or sexual impropriaties that would make it 'R' rated other than normal "Westerns" style violence. Thanks, Terry

Thursday, December 5, 2013

You know, I have got three unkind reviews on Wars End. If you believe I am going to pay you to proof-read my work just to get a positive review from you, you are wrong. I sat tonight and read Wars End, and no, I am not Ian Fleming. Solomon Stryker is not James Bond, but then again I never said I was a prolific writer! I never believed I would become wealthy from writing. I enjoy what I do, whether you like it or not. If all you have time to do is sit around and crush people with your words, then please, bypass my books to save me from wasting your time. Yes, there a few typos, but guess what? I found typos in the Hunger Game series as well. Did I trash the author of The Hunger Games? No! I accepted them for what they were, good reads, not great, but good. It was my choice to read them. I have found typos in Stephen King's work. Heaven forbid! Stephen King! No, say it ain't so! It happens. So, if you don't have anything kind to say, like my parents taught me, shut up!!

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

As of 12/02/2013 I have sent Fallon's Land to smashwords.com and Amazon for publishing (Available now for Kindle.) Here is the introduction:

My name is Trece Fallon. My family owns the largest ranch in Wyoming and has for over 150 years.Today
is a day of reckoning that had been building since my, great, great,
great grandfather Jedediah Fallon first came to Wyoming back in 1860.It
was a hot, sweltering day in the streets of Dry Run, Wyoming. On a day
such as this, most people would be inside, soaking up the coolness of
hard running air conditioning systems.This day in Dry Run, the good
town folk were on the sidewalks, watching the scene that was unfolding
before them. Our town was like all western towns in the 21st Century.
There were plenty of stories of gunfights in its history, with murders,
lynching and hangings. The type of events that feed the rich lore that
made multitudes of television shows and movies. Dime novels made events
like quick-draw gunfights, done either at noon, outside a saloon or at
dawn, a thing that fed the minds of the world and the country.Children
grew up with their wooden guns, walking towards each other, waiting for
the other to draw their gun. Then the sounds of the children yelling,
“Bang-bang” and then playfully falling dead in the street.We have
the exaggerated tales of gunfights with the fastest on the draw killing
his opponent. It was mostly the ignorant by-stander, thinking they had a
great view of what was about to transpire, being the shot and ending up
in the local cemetery! That left the two gunfighters fighting to be the
first one to draw back the hammers on their pistols to get the second
shot fired next!Dry Run, Wyoming was no different. The extraordinary
difference from most western towns, was its lore based upon the my
family protecting Dry Run and our Native American friends from one
particular bad element that had infested the area with a bullish,
overbearing attitude, bent on any criminal activity from rustling to
gang style enforcers.Today appeared to be another day for the
history books. Standing in the street of Dry Run, were three
individuals, two who were intent on killing the one, carrying guns and
enough hate for 10 gunfights. This fight was a long time in coming, a
fight had been building for over one hundred and fifty years, and cooler
heads or the law could no longer prevent it from playing out!However, I am getting ahead of myself. Let me take you back to when the bad blood and hostilities began…!